


misunderstanding

by hexmionegranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Halloween, M/M, Marcus plays hockey, Multi, Oliver is a golden boy soccer star, Pansy is a drug dealer, Threesome - F/M/M, everyone wears a slutty costume
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmionegranger/pseuds/hexmionegranger
Summary: Drug deals that go wrong usually go really, really wrong. Pansy is pleased to admit that this went really, really right.





	

Halloween was always a good night for business.

Pansy wasn’t exactly sure what it was about Halloween that brought out the desire in hordes of college students to get ridiculously high, though she figured it had something to do with terrifying movies and a surplus of candy.

Either way, it didn’t really matter, because what it meant for her was a ton of cash - even if she usually ended up missing whatever parties were happening to stay home with her stash. To be a little more in the spirit, she’d pulled on her costume and done her makeup inbetween visitors.

When her phone buzzed for the four-hundredth-odd time, she didn’t think anything of the unknown number asking “if she had any”, and responded back quickly with her address. Halfway through typing it out her phone buzzed again, this time everyone’s favourite stoner hockey captain Marcus Flint, and she sent nearly the exact same message. Marcus was always a favourite customer if only because he was so damn beautiful, and always spent an absolute load of money. He was usually there representing nearly the entire hockey team, but since they had some propriety to uphold about not smoking weed because they were _athletes_ it was always a “hush job”.

Pansy charged extra for those.

When her doorbell rang twenty odd minutes later she straightened out her skirt before she answered. Hey, no harm in flirting with the customers, right? It wasn’t like she was a professional.

Pansy hadn’t quite been expecting to open the door up to a half naked Marcus, standing on her step and shivering a little in the cold October air. He was wearing the classic Chippendale costume - bare torso, bow tie, shirt cuffs.

He looked good.

Licking her lips, Pansy flashed him her best seductive grin and pulled him inside the sorority. Mostly, her housemates tried to ignore the fact that she sold drugs out of her bedroom because she was always willing to pay for drinks and regularly bought the entire greek row sushi, but she didn’t need to draw too much more attention to the slightly shady and vaguely illegal behaviours.

Marcus was never one of her more vocal customers, but that didn’t stop Pansy _trying_ to chat him up as she led him up to her bedroom. Before they reached the top of the stairs the bell rang again and she shoo’d Marcus off in the direction of her room to wait for her there as she returned to the door.

If she hadn’t been expecting half-naked Marcus, she most definitely was not expecting the person standing on her stoop this time. She recognized him vaguely from the few soccer games she attended with the cheerleading squad, but even more so because of who he was on campus. Oliver Wood, captain-extraordinare. He was so focused on the game that he never let loose, according to his teammates. Didn’t go to parties, didn’t drink even if he did, barely even stayed up late most nights. All he cared about was winning.

And now he was standing on her front porch, fidgeting, in nothing but a kilt, with half of his face painted blue.

Pansy swallowed heavily.

“Well hello there.”

Oliver glanced up from the ground and the half of his face not painted flushed as he took in her too short skirt, the duster she was holding, and the fishnet garter stockings that ended halfway up her thighs.

“Oh,” he said, clearly also swallowing back some form of emotion. “I, uh. I must have the wrong house…” He shifted again, looked up into her eyes, clenched his jaw. “D’you happen to know where, um,” he paused again and pulled a phone out of seemingly nowhere. “Uh, I’m looking for someone named Parker? I think…?”

Pansy tossed back her head and laughed and reached out to grab his hand. “You’re in the right place, hotshot. Don’t just stand on my porch and look uncomfortable. Everything’s inside.”

Oliver glanced back out at the street as she pulled him across the step, clearly checking to make sure no one saw, and then let her lead him awkwardly up the stairs.

“So,” Pansy said with a hum, as she reached the top of the steps. “I’ve never seen you here before, Wood.”

“You know who I am?” He asked quickly, and Pansy couldn’t help but smirk again.

“The whole _school_ knows who you are. Don’t be naive. And calm down, won’t you? No one else will know that you’re here.”

Pansy had forgotten about Marcus, and it was only when she stepped into her room and saw him lounged out on her bed, the trashy romance novel she’d been reading the night before between his fingers and a smug grin on her face that she remembered.

“Oops…” She mumbled. Oliver had turned to go but it was too late - Marcus had lowered the book.

“Well well, look who we have here.”

The faux-Scot’s shoulders dropped in a sigh and he turned back into the room, looking between Pansy and Marcus before closing the door. “Look-”

“I wonder what you’re here for,” Marcus teased, half heartedly. “Because, I’m not sure what would be more surprising-”

Oliver was stepping closer now, eyebrows pulling down into a frown. “Marcus, don’t-”

“I mean. The school’s golden boy. I would say it wouldn’t be for the drugs, since god knows everyone in the world knows your stance on those. But then-”

“I mean it, Marcus, don’t say it-”

“Then again, I’m sure it’s not for lovely Pansy here either. Seeing as how you were pretty damn happy with your lips wrapped around my cock last weekend.”

Pansy couldn’t help it, she gasped. She loved drama, lived for it. But there was more than that here, and she couldn’t help but picture it. Marcus, leant back against a wall, hand in his mouth to stop from moaning. Oliver, perfect precious ‘all I care about is soccer’ Oliver, on his knees with his lips stretched around-

Oh fuck.

Oliver had reached Marcus by now and pulled the other man off the bed with his tie. “What did I just _fucking_ say?” He snapped, but Marcus was laughing. He was taller, marginally, and broader, and Oliver was trying to look threatening but falling short.

Marcus shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve decided not to listen to you, since you clearly haven’t been listening to me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Oliver growled, and Pansy lifted a hand to fan at her face.

“‘What is that supposed to _mean_?’” Marcus mocked, voice low and dangerous. “What that’s supposed to mean is that you didn’t respond to a single one of my texts. And I don’t take well to being lied to, _Wood_. Whatever happened to ‘let’s do this again sometime, here’s my number, text me, please’?”

But now Oliver was frowning in a way that seemed more confused than angry, and he had loosened his grip on Marcus’s tie but not let go of it completely. “Wait,” he said, shaking his head. “Wait no, you didn’t text me? Trust me, I think I would have known if you’d texted me.”

Marcus turned his head sharply to Pansy. “Can you believe this asshole? Gives me his number, practically begs me to text him so he can get another taste of my cock, and then fucking lies about it to my-”

“Six-three-seven- _two_. D’you have six-three-seven- _two_? Or did your drunk-ass brain fuck up my number and put six-three-seven-oh? Because, you wouldn’t be the first…”

Marcus pulled out his cellphone, grumbling as he did so, scrolling through, until he paused. Flushed.

Pansy had never seen him flush before. She was _not_ complaining, especially because it spread down his neck and chest and looked positively sinful. She wondered, briefly, if he flushed like that when he was being sucked off.

“Fuck.” Marcus murmured. “Fuck, fuck, shit. Six-three-seven-oh.”

Oliver laughed and let go of Marcus’s tie, then, brushing his hands off. “All just a big misunderstanding.”

“So,” Pansy cut in, realizing the tension had broken but now Marcus was looking at Oliver with something that seemed more like hunger than anger - his eyes were set and his flush was fading. “So, sorry, just to clarify - you’re both gay then? Not that, you know, not that I have a _problem_ with that. It just rather throws a wrench in my plans of figuring out which one of you was going to stick around and fuck me.” Pansy had never been uncomfortable, asking for what she wanted. Especially because she had no chance of getting it at this point.

“Actually,” Marcus began, raising a brow and turning his head towards Pansy, scanning his eyes over her from head to toe. “Bi.”

Pansy flushed under his gaze and felt the heat pool low in her stomach, and then she turned her head to Oliver who was looking like a child who had been told he couldn’t have another cookie. “I’m really just not picky at all.” He admitted, with a shrug. “Though, I figure you’ll want him to be the one sticking around then? Seems like you two have a bit of, uh, history. If so, Flint, my offer isn’t off the table, you know.”

He stepped back from the taller man, but Marcus had other ideas and had reached out, pressing his hand to the front of Oliver’s crotch. “Are you wearing this kilt like a _real_ Scot, Wood? Because, if so… I think you should stick around.”

His eyes stayed locked with Pansy’s, and he raised a brow. She wasn’t sure if it was a challenge or an invitation. She didn’t actually care. She didn’t even really need the business anyways. Besides, not a single Halloween party all over campus could top a threesome with the two of the best athletes on campus. Even if it meant she’d be washing blue paint off her thighs in the morning.


End file.
